Remember Me
by JustMakeLeftTurns
Summary: Liv is just an ordinary, plain-Jane girl. Well, except that she can't remember anything before she was 14 years old. When Norway and Iceland suddenly appear in her apartment, they realize her lost memories may not have been an accident, and that there is something missing from the picture. "We think you're this world's personification of Norway." Wait, what?
1. Chapter 1

**So, I had a dream. A long time ago. And started writing this. It's a partially-but-not-really-at-all self-insert. Sorry if she is/I am a Mary Sue. I do not have a lot of experience with writing OC's.**

**Also, please correct me if my Norwegian is incorrect!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, as much as it pains me to admit it.**

OoOoOo

It was the first day of summer vacation. So I did what any normal 17-year-old girl does when there's no school: sleep in until noon. Okay, so I woke up around nine-ish, and then listened to kpop, cpop, and Viking metal music until 11. That was when I got restless and decided that I had to do something with my life instead of be a lazy bum.

I took a shower, dressed myself in pajama bottoms and T-shirt that said 'Talk British to Me,' and then made myself breakfast. I brushed my shoulder-length brown hair out of my brown eyes – boring colors, I know – as I ate scrambled eggs. I read Hetalia fanfiction, tried to find a doujinshi I hadn't read yet, and watched a couple of youtube videos.

I got bored – I have a seriously low attention span – and decided to go window shopping. Aka, look at stuff I wanted but couldn't afford. And even if I could afford it, I had a bigger project I was saving up for: my trip to Norway.

It was a lot of money.

My job didn't pay much.

Yeah.

Anyway, I made my way towards the mall, even though I don't like the mall. Or window shopping. I was just that bored. An hour and one Dairy Queen milkshake later, I was ready to leave. As I was leaving, I noticed a store was going out of business, which meant sales. Like, major sales. I was going to pass it, but something caught my interest in the front.

I headed over to the store, where things were laid out in front of the doors. I shook my head internally – what was I thinking of this junk? Then I saw them – two small pins, barely the size of my thumbnail. One was the flag of Norway. The other was the flag of Iceland. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them.

Because, well, I had a sort of obsession with countries ever since I'd discovered Hetalia. And for whatever reason, I felt a connection with Norway – both the character and the actual place. And Iceland was just plain awesome. So I did as every other teenager my age did – I bought the pins. They were only a couple dollars.

Immediately after buying them, I regretted it. I needed to save up money for an actual trip to Norway, not a couple of pins. But I'd already gotten them, so I wasn't going to give them back. I felt better the more I walked back to my apartment. Seriously, I needed to stop worrying so much about money. Even though I kind of needed it to pay for my apartment …

When I reached the apartment, I took the pins and stuck them onto my bulletin board, right next to my plans for my Norway trip. I sat down with my laptop and started writing a fanfiction, when I heard voices.

I placed my laptop on the coffee table and crept forward, my heart in my throat. What should I do? I didn't have a cell phone – too much money – and my home phone was in the kitchen … where the voices were coming from.

A part of me wanted to escape out the front door and call for help. But another part of me wanted to see who was there. That old saying rang in my head: _Curiosity killed the cat_. I licked my lips nervously. Well, I wasn't a cat, and it was sheer stupidity that killed that damn cat anyway, so I'll look anyway. So I did.

And felt my jaw drop in surprise.

There, in my kitchen, searching the place for who-knows-what, were Norway and Iceland. Like, legit, _the_ Norway and Iceland from Hetalia. No joke. They were talking in a language that wasn't English, but their body language made it clear that they were confused and maybe a bit frustrated.

Now, a normal person would either faint or scream. Luckily, I wasn't a normal girl. So I did the complete opposite. I shut my mouth, took a breath, and stepped into the kitchen. Norway and Iceland turned to look at me. My heart skipped a beat at how cute they were – no, not attractive cute, just, like, anime cute … What's the word … moe? I think that's it?

I cleared my throat. I was overly nervous – not just because they were freaking anime characters, but because they were people … I've always been very shy. Vaguely remembering something I'd learned in my psychology class, I clenched my left hand into a fist. Apparently, that triggers something in your brain that calms you down.

It must've worked, or something, because I was suddenly brave enough to say, albeit shakily, "H-hi."

Yes. 'Hi.' I blushed as I realized how stupid I must sound. I remembered how in every human-meets-anime-character fanfiction, the girl was always excited and knew exactly what to say. Not me. I wasn't ever very good at thinking on my feet.

Iceland opened his mouth to say something, but Norway cut him off. "Hvor er vi?"

Shit. Norwegian. Luckily, in my determination to eventually go to Norway and not sound like a complete idiot, I had attempted to teach myself Norwegian. I only remembered a couple of things, but they should do. Well, unless Norway couldn't speak English. Then there would be a problem.

I bit my lip, trying to recall how to pronounce the words. "Jeg snakker ikke norsk." I knew my pronunciation was most likely horrible, but I hoped it would get the message across.

Iceland stood idly to the side. Norway blinked and tilted his head slightly, as if urging me to continue. I could have sworn I saw the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Was he laughing at me?

My face now beet red, I lowered my gaze to the ground. "Jeg er americansk. Snakker de engelsk?"

Yes. He was most definitely laughing at me. Or at my poor speaking skills. Or something.

Iceland decided to take pity on me. "Stop teasing her," he said to Norway. He turned to me. "Where are we?"

I shifted from one foot to the other. I was utterly humiliated in front of two of my favorite Hetalia characters, one of who seemed to think my Norwegian pronunciation hilarious. I couldn't think of what to say. I mean, should I just say where they are, or should I tell them they're not real? Well, their countries … landmasses … are real, just not the personifications? What if I said too much? What if they didn't trust me?

Norway apparently had had enough of my silence. The 'smile,' if I could even call it that, was gone. "Well?" Damn. Emotionless Norway, just like the anime portrays him. I really didn't want to piss him off. I had a lot of headcanons concerning him, and I didn't particularly want to know if a certain revert-to-a-Viking-when-mad headcanon was true.

"Leave her alone already," Iceland said. "We're in her home. Obviously, she's surprised."

"What I want to know is why we're here in the first place."

Ouch. I appreciated Iceland trying to stick up for me, but Norway sounded a little accusatory, like it was my fault they were here. But unless I could suddenly do magic (which would be awesome), it most definitely wasn't me. Then why were they in _my _apartment? Why not someone else's? Why not on the street?

And that's when I remembered the pins. I glanced at my bulletin board so as not to appear suspicious – not like either of the countries would have noticed, seeing as the conversation had somehow turned to Iceland not calling Norway his big brother – and saw the pins still there. Did they have something to do with it?

I decided to think about that later. I turned my attention back to Norway and Iceland. I watched in amusement as they argued. No, seriously, it's really entertaining. After awhile, they just … stopped, like they both had agreed to disagree for the time being. And then they both turned to me.

I blinked like a deer caught in headlights. "U-um …" Shit, think of something to say. Oh, wait, answer their damn question. Yes. That's probably the best thing to do. "You're in my apartment, in New York."

"But what are we doing here?" Iceland asked.

I shrugged. Neither of them was satisfied. They kept looking at me. I sighed. No choice. I had a blabber mouth, anyway. It wasn't as if I'd be able to keep quiet for long.

"You're in a different world than yours," I told them quietly. Well, my voice was always quiet, so maybe 'quieter-than-usual' would be a better description. Both Iceland and Norway seemed taken aback. Wow, Norway showed a flash of emotion. That should be written down somewhere.

"I-I mean," I stammered, trying to explain, "H-here, you're anime characters. Manga characters. Whatever. You're not real. U-uh … yeah …" Great going, genius. I'm such an idiot.

"Can you prove it?" Iceland asked, crossing his arms. Norway stared at me. Which was really creepy. I'm sure he's nice, but that _stare_. At least it wasn't Sweden. As nice as Sweden was, I'd be even more frightened than Finland. No offense meant to either nation.

I showed them to my living room and went to Wikipedia. I showed them stuff about Hetalia. I went onto amazon and showed them merchandise. I even showed them the extra episode that featured the Nordics (I kept smiling and giggling throughout it. I probably looked like a crazy stalker, if the looks Norway and Iceland gave me were any indication).

Afterwards, there was silence. I didn't mind silence, but this was one of those awkward silences. Maybe having three quiet people together in the same room wasn't such a good idea. So I told them I was going to make food and left to the kitchen. Maybe that would give them time to think things over. And not interrogate me.

I put together six-layer casserole and placed it in the oven. This didn't really take that long, and I didn't want to interrupt any conversation Norway and Iceland may or may not be having, so I went to my Hetalia- and country-decorated room. No lie. Just flags, pictures, keychains, etc. I didn't have any family, so it was all Hetalia and countries. I was obsessed.

So naturally I was embarrassed when Iceland and Norway came into my room. I sat on my bed, face red, and tried to avoid their gaze.

"We don't have anywhere to go," Norway said. "Do you mind if we stay here for the night?"

I raised my head, a small grin on my face. "Sure. You can stay as long as you need to."

There goes my saving-up-for-Norway-trip money.

But they didn't need to know that.

"So, what's your name?" Iceland asked.

"Olivia, but you can call me Liv." Okay, truth is, I don't know if my full name is Olivia. I have one of those necklaces that have your name on it, and mine says 'Liv.' I always assumed it was short for Olivia, so that's what I tell people.

Okay, long story put extremely short, I can't remember anything before being taken in by a foster family … and they sucked. They just used me and the other foster kids for the money. As soon as I turned 16, I got emancipated. It took a long time, but it was worth it. Anyway, point is, I don't know anything before then. I don't even know how old I was when I was found. I guessed my age to be around 14 and went from there.

That's pretty much it.

Right then, the oven beeped, so I scurried past Norway and Iceland and took out the food. I started to set the table while it was cooling, but Norway took the plates from me. I shot him a confused glance.

"It's the least we can do for letting us stay here," he said. I noticed Iceland getting cups. I brought over forks and knives, thanking the two nations for the help.

Dinner was silent, but this time it wasn't awkward. It sounds weird, but I think Iceland and Norway were just as nervous about talking to me as I was about talking to them. After dinner, I washed the dishes by hand while Iceland dried and Norway put them away. I brought out blankets and one of my pillows – there were two already on the couch – and set up the couch as one bed and a bunch of blankets as a bed on the floor.

I felt terrible. Even when they both said it was fine, I still felt terrible.

The next morning, I was up first – I wanted to make sure Norway and Iceland didn't need anything. And that was when I realized that I was a girl. With girls clothes.

Shit.

I took a quick shower and started making breakfast, all the while debating on what to do. Well, for that day, it couldn't be helped – they'd have to wear their clothes again. I had work today, so afterwards, I could go pick some stuff up. But I didn't know the first thing about buying guy clothes.

I blushed the entire time I told Norway and Iceland that. No matter how understanding they were, it was still embarrassing. But we decided that they'd meet me at my work around four o' clock and we'd go shopping together.

I started getting ready for my crappy job at JCPenny's at 10:30. I went to work – a 10-minute walk from the apartment – and spent the next few hours hating people. I really hate my job.

When it was time to go shopping with Iceland and Norway – which meant I couldn't fucking leave the store yet – I kept thinking of how much money I was losing. Goodbye, Norway trip. It was nice knowing you.

Walking home, the nations told me how they had applied for jobs to help pay for things. And I started to see my Norway trip come a little closer. Maybe I'd still get the chance to go someday. Iceland had applied to a candy store – I'm pretty sure he just wanted to be near licorice – and Norway had applied to Stop n' Shop.

We brought their new clothes into my apartment – I had offered to wash them, but they refused to let me … – and that is when I wanted to curl up into a hole and die. Because Norway had found my plans for my trip. Okay, idealistically planned trip.

"What is this?"

I turned to see him reading the paper that covered costs, places to go, and times places were open in Norway. I blushed. And then Iceland went over and read it too. He looked over at me and smirked. I covered my face in my hands. Why hadn't I hid it?

"I think someone has a crush," Iceland teased. I blushed harder. Not true.

"Now that I think about it, you own a lot of stuff that has to do with Norway: music, posters, movies …"

I glared half-heartedly at Iceland. "You went through my stuff?"

Well, duh, why wouldn't they? They were alone for hours. What else were they supposed to do?

"I have to ask why you're so obsessed with me," Norway turned to me. I groaned in embarrassment and hid my face again.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Norway continued. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

"Because you're Norway," I mumbled into my hands. "And now you know how much I really, really want to go to … you? Your land?" How does that even work?

"He's not mad," Iceland rolled his eyes. I lowered my hands from my face. "I find it cute."

"I find you annoying," Norway said to Iceland. To me, "You don't have to tell me. I was just curious."

Still not looking up, I shrugged. "I don't actually know why," I admitted. "I've always felt a … connection with Norway … you … whatever. When I was little, I was interested in Vikings. I forgot about it until I discovered Hetalia, and a few other really good youtube videos, and I suddenly found myself looking up everything I could. And now … it's like it's calling me to go." I feel like crying whenever I say I can't get there. My heart aches. It's like a magnet. I feel the _need_ to be there. I can't even describe how I feel.

But I wasn't going to tell them that. That would just mark me as a psycho. No thanks.

"…Interesting…" Norway said. Great, I scared him off.

My obsession with Norway – the landmass – wasn't brought up again until a couple of weeks later. By then, we'd all grown pretty comfortable around each other. I was happy – both of them had gotten the jobs – so there was more money coming in. Not to mention, they were actually very fun to be around.

Norway had begun trying to get me to call him 'big brother' as well. Trust me, I was shocked as hell when he first started it. I humored him a couple of times before realizing why Iceland got so irritated. I only really said it now when I wanted something … yes, he'd been staying at my place so long that he really _was_ the 'older brother' of us. Even though it was _my_ apartment.

Iceland and I got along, too. He'd bring me home candy from the shop, which we'd flaunt in Norway's face before I felt bad and gave him some. I'd suddenly come to realize that Iceland was a lot more playful and immature than what the anime made him out to be. Seriously, the fifth day into my summer vacation, he started a food fight while I was trying to bake him a cake for his birthday.

All in all, things were great.

One day when I came home from work, Iceland was also home. I found this weird because I thought for sure he had to work as well, although that could have been a mistake.

"Hey, Icey," I teased, grinning. Iceland grinned back halfheartedly. My grin faded. "What's wrong?"

Iceland sighed and came over to me. "When we asked you why you were obsessed with Norway, you said that you felt like h-it was calling to you."

I blushed. "Y-yeah. Why?"

"Could you explain it a little more?"

Well, this wasn't weird and awkward at all. I tried to brush it off. "It's not that big of a deal. So I like Norway. Who cares? Everyone always wants to visit England and Germany and Italy, so why can't I want to visit Norway?"

Still, something wasn't right with how Iceland was acting … as if he was nervous. "Please, just … Can you please try to explain?"

I wanted to ask why, but something in Iceland's pleading look stopped me. Thoroughly embarrassed at what I was about to say, I closed my eyes and clenched my left hand. "Well … it's like I said. It's like it's calling to me. Or like a magnet. I feel …" Man, I sucked at describing my feelings. "Whenever I think 'I don't have the money for this' or 'most people don't get to go to Europe, so how are you any different,' I feel an ache in my heart, in my entire being."

Well, that wasn't weird at all.

Blushing madly, I dared to open my eyes. Iceland appeared thoughtful, maybe a bit troubled. I didn't understand why. "So … are you going to tell me why you wanted to know?"

Iceland looked at me. "Norway and I have talked about this, and we could be wrong, but …" He trailed off.

I waited patiently.

"We think you're this world's personification of Norway."

OoOoOo

**AND that's probably the longest chapter in this fic. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**Translations:**

**Hvor er vi - Where are we**

**Jeg snakker ikke norsk - I don't speak Norwegian**

**Jeg er americansk. Snakker de engelsk? - I am American. Do you speak English?**


	2. Chapter 2

I blinked. "Wait … what?"

A normal person would either faint or scream or jump for joy. Or something like that. Me? I was just plain confused. I needed to understand what was being said before I had an actual reaction. Or something. Point is, I didn't really know what to feel … except confused.

Iceland led me over to the couch, where we both sat down. Iceland took a breath. "That feeling you described is what we feel, as personifications. We feel a connection with our land, our people, and our culture. We've learned to travel outside of our lands, so we've gotten used to the 'magnet' feeling, but if you've never learned, then that's why you're so affected by it."

"But why wouldn't I know?" I asked. "I'm not Norwegian. I can't speak or understand Norwegian." The list went on and on, but I cut myself off there.

Iceland shrugged, shaking his head. "That's what we're wondering."

It was silent for a few minutes. I just sat there and thought about it. The possibility that I could be the personification of Norway. A part of me was intrigued and excited. But another part of me was scared. As a personification, what would I have to do? I wasn't good at public speaking or coming up with ideas – I'm a follower, not a leader. And what happens if one country invades another? I shuddered. Fangirls and fanboys all over the internet had an idea of what happened, but I hoped that wasn't true.

"Hey, Liv," Iceland said. I looked at him. "I wasn't supposed to say anything, so could you …"

"Not tell Norway?" I guessed, smiling. Iceland grinned and nodded. "Sure. No problem." But why wouldn't Norway want me to know? Was there something that Iceland was leaving out? Was Norway jealous? Angry that he wasn't the only one? Was I just overthinking it?

I didn't bring it up again. I was still trying to wrap my head around it. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much sense it made. It would explain why I loved Norwegian Vikings more than Danish or Swedish. It would explain why I felt patriotic towards Norway when 'Alt for Norge' and other Norwegian songs played. It would explain why I always sympathized with the pagan Vikings instead of the Christian people in movies, books, etc. Not to mention, I didn't mind the cold, and my birthday was May 17, the same day Norway gained independence.

It made so much sense that I began to accept it, but not what responsibilities it would bring. I couldn't public speak or lead someone or stand up for myself in a fight. Hell, I didn't know how to negotiate things out or how to fight if I ever had to go to war. I thought about all of the bad things and realized with terrifying clarity what could happen with me as a personification.

One night, as I lied in bed thinking about it, I found myself crying from fear. I sat up and placed my head on my knees, sobbing. I couldn't do it. I'm only 17. Or was I? The Kingdom of Norway was thousands of years old. This only made me cry harder. Everything I thought I knew was coming apart.

I guess I cried too loudly because my door creaked open and someone came over to my bed. I stiffened when I felt a hand on my back. The hand rubbed my back, slowly relaxing me. The tears kept falling, but I wasn't hysterical anymore. I felt the bed sink down with the weight of someone else added onto it. Arms wrapped around me in an awkward hug. Feeling uncomfortable, I unfurled myself and leaned into the chest of Norway.

I tried to speak, to apologize, to say I was fine, but I couldn't find my voice. Norway just held me, rubbing my back, letting me cry. Eventually, I calmed down, but I didn't pull away.

"Storebror," I whispered hoarsely. I wrapped my arms around his torso and hid my face in the crook of his neck. "I'm scared."

Norway didn't say anything. He probably knew what I was talking about – he's freaking Norway, he knows everything – but I told him anyway.

"Iceland told me how you guys think I'm this world's personification of Norway," I told him shakily. Norway's hand paused for a second before continuing to rub my back. "And … I-I'm scared. I'm not good enough to be someone like that. I'm not smart or a good fighter or good at speaking … I'm only 17 … I think … I don't even know anymore …"

Norway didn't speak for a few minutes. Finally, "This is why I didn't want to tell you." A pause. "We don't even know if it's true or not."

As scared as I felt, I found it in me to grin shakily. "Well, there's only one way to find out."

That night wasn't mentioned again. Iceland was told that Norway knew that I knew. We all put more serious thought into saving up for a trip to Norway – the land. Geez, that gets confusing really fast. With the three of us working together, we managed to get enough money by the beginning of August.

When we discovered we finally had enough, I forgot all of my troubles and jumped up and down excitedly like a little girl. We booked our flight – to leave in a couple of days – and mapped out where we would go, relying, of course, on the expert. The point of this trip was to see if anything came to mind – memories, familiarity, etc. – or if I felt like I was 'home.' Or both.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to take the time to check out the sites.

The night before we were to leave, Iceland came into my room. We lied on my bed together and laughed a bit. No, seriously, Iceland has a personality. Really.

"So, you nervous?" Iceland asked me suddenly. I blinked and looked at him.

"Well, yeah, a bit," I admitted. "But I'm also excited. I've always wanted to go to Norway."

Iceland smiled. "So I see." He leaned closer. "I feel left out. Why don't you want to go to my lands?" His pout made me burst into laughter. Remembering that Norway was asleep, I slapped a hand over my mouth until I'd calmed down.

"I do want to go to Iceland," I told him. "It's just Norway is my top place to visit."

"Well, if that's how you're going to be." Iceland made to get up. I pulled him back down.

"Hey, I like Iceland … you … You know what I mean."

"Sure you do."

"I do! I just don't know as much. Oh, except that the accents are cute. And the language." Only after I said it aloud did I realize what I'd just admitted to. I blushed. Damn it.

Iceland noticed the slip up. He smirked. "Oh, my accent is cute?"

I rolled my eyes. "Now you're just making it thicker for fun."

"So what if I am?"

We had a mock-glaring contest, which ended with both of us laughing our asses off. When we calmed down, I looked at him.

"Speak Icelandic," I said. Iceland looked surprised.

"Huh?"

"I like how Icelandic sounds. Say something."

Iceland thought about it a minute before saying, "Noregur er pirrandi."

I grinned. Seriously, if you've ever heard Icelandic, you understand how awesome it sounds. "What's that mean? I heard 'Norway' in there, I think."

"'Norway is annoying."

I'm not going to lie. I laughed. Really loudly. Iceland shushed me. Right. No waking up Norway.

"Say something else."

"Ísland er mesta land á jörðinni. That means, 'Iceland is the best country on Earth.'"

"Think highly of yourself, do you?" I teased. Iceland poked me in the side. I squealed. "Okay, okay, sorry! One more? Please?"

Iceland's teasing expression faded, replaced by a serious one. "þú ert falleg."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that mean?"

Iceland stared at the wall behind me. "'You are beautiful.'"

I blushed. "No, I'm not."

Iceland stared at me with such an intense look on his face that I was taken aback. "Yes, you are. I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you, both inside and out. You're kind and funny … And I think I'm falling in love with you."

I was quiet. Well, what was I supposed to say? I didn't know what feelings I had for Iceland, if any. I'd never really thought about it. I mean, I looked at Norway as a brother of sorts. Shouldn't I look at Iceland the same way?

I thought about it. He was cold and maybe a bit hot-tempered at times, but he could be funny and sweet too. He helped me when I needed it and always supported me. He was the one who told me about maybe being this world's Norway, perhaps because he thought I could handle it. Whenever he came to pick me up at work, if he got off before me, I would get protective of Iceland when other girls eyed him. Was I being jealous at those times?

"I … I can't say I love you …" After all, I didn't know what falling in love felt like. "But … but I can … try … I just don't know how I feel … There's definitely something there, but I'm not sure what it is."

Iceland smiled. "Well, we could figure it out together?" I nodded, blushing madly.

Iceland slept in my bed that night. Luckily, we were both up before Norway, so the latter didn't know. Iceland and I both agreed that Norway shouldn't be told yet. I don't know why I agreed with Iceland. I think a part of me got a bit of a thrill from sneaking behind Norway's back. Of course, when it's put that way, I feel bad …

I didn't feel bad for long, for we had to grab our bags and take a taxi to the airport. A long, long, long flight later, we arrived in Norway. The land. Thank God for Norway, the person. He helped us get a taxi to the inn. It was only one room for the three of us, but none of us minded. Norway and Iceland would sleep on one bed while I slept on the other.

I think Iceland secretly planned to crawl into my bed.

Even though I was tired, I forced myself to follow Norway around Oslo. I took in the sites and stuff like your typical tourist. I'm pretty sure Norway laughed at me a few times. Iceland held my hand whenever he thought it safe – aka, that Norway wouldn't turn around and see.

I couldn't really take anything in because of my exhaustion, but I did notice one thing: I felt at peace. I felt like I belonged here.

I subconsciously knew where major places were. No lie. It was like I had a compass in me. Or a GPS. I knew where some of the fjords were. I had an idea where some other cities were. I knew where the border with Sweden began and ended, which way was north, which way was south.

I was afraid.

I didn't say anything about the connection I had with the land, and neither nation asked. We ate some traditional Norwegian food – which I could have sworn I'd had before – and then returned to the inn to sleep.

And yes, Iceland _did_ sneak into my bed. He was gone before Norway woke up, though.

I told Norway and Iceland about the connection the next day. They both seemed worried about me, but I pretended to be fine. On the inside, though, I was panicking. I think Norway could sense it, though, because he gave me a hug while Iceland was in the bathroom.

Basically, the rest of the trip – which was to last for two weeks – was going to be us travelling through Norway and me trying to figure out if anything seemed familiar or if I remembered anything. We headed north and zigzagged slowly across the land for two days. I faintly recognized things, but no specific events came to mind.

That is, until we came to a small town in the middle of Norway. We hadn't originally planned on going there, but while in a nearby area, I'd felt the urge to go east instead of west, as we were going to. Iceland and Norway trusted my judgment, and so we went.

"Do you know why you wanted to come here?" Iceland asked. I shook my head, lost.

I turned to Norway. "Was there something important here at some point? Like, World Wars, or Vikings, or something?" Norway thought for a few minutes before shrugging. That was out.

We walked aimlessly for awhile, until I felt a tugging in my gut. "Something's pulling me this way," I told them, leading the way. When the tugging stopped, I found that I'd brought us to a graveyard. I furrowed my brow. Why would something call me here?

"I don't understand," I whispered brokenly. I just wanted to figure things out. If I was Norway, then how come I didn't know it? Why didn't I remember things? Was it reincarnation? And yet, all I got as a clue was a cemetery.

Norway entered the cemetery. "Well, if you were led here, something must have happened to you. Or maybe someone you knew is buried here." Iceland squeezed my hand. We followed Norway.

"Is anything familiar?" Iceland asked. I shook my head. I felt frustrated tears build up in my eyes. I pressed a hand to my right eye. It wouldn't do to cry over something like this.

"Nothing. It doesn't make any sense."

Norway had stopped walking. He looked down at something hidden in a tuft of grass that a lawn mower couldn't reach. I tilted my head.

"What is it?"

He knelt down and grabbed a pin, about the size of my thumb. It was white with black letters. Nothing special. I knelt down to read what it said: NNO.

I felt a sudden sharp pain in my head. I cried out in surprise. There were pictures. But I couldn't see them clearly. They were moving. Or was I moving? I closed my eyes. The grass beneath my hands disappeared, and I was running.

_I'm scared. I'm running through the cemetery. I hear shouts. But I don't know what they are saying. Everything is hazy. I can't think. And suddenly, it doesn't matter if I can't think. All I know is that I have to get away. Hurry up! Don't stop! Don't look back!_

_Four men come up in my peripheral vision. They have guns. They won't hurt me for long. I'm a nation. They can't kill me._

_No, they have special weapons. Those aren't normal bullets. They have something in them. Run away! Get away! They'll kill you! They'll kill you all! Hurry, hurry, hurry! Left, right, left, right. Ignore the pounding in your heart. Ignore your difficulty breathing. Just get away._

_There's a pain in my ankle, and suddenly I'm falling. I cry out in fear. I look at my ankle, notice there's no blood – I just tripped on a tombstone. But now they're closer, closer, run away! Don't look, don't think, just go!_

_I grab something, I throw it. It hits one in the neck. I have a second. I throw it. Another one dead. I don't have anything else. Two left. I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead – _

_A man stabs one in the back, turns, throws the dead guy into the second. I can't see his face. My ears unclog, and I suddenly hear shouting. Who's shouting? I'm crying. Wait, I'm shouting. A name. Someone's name. I can't hear myself. But I hear other shouts. I hear gunshots, so many gunshots. None hit me or the man who saved me._

"_Liv, go!" He pronounces my name weird. He pronounced it 'leev.' And then I forget the pronunciation of my name, for he shouts at me to run, to get away, to save myself. _

_I'm shouting something back, I stumble onto my feet, but the man shouts at me again, and I run, run, run as fast as I can, heart pounding in my ears, and my ears are clogged up again, my mind is thinking one thing: run run run run run –_

_I hear a scream, shrill, a girl's scream, a young woman's scream. A face comes to mind. A name rolls off my tongue._

_Tears cascading down my cheeks, I turn and see the young woman whose name I suddenly know collapse, bleeding from two places on her back and one place on her stomach. Another man, shot in the chest, falls before he can reach her. I shout, horrified, terrified, "KUKKA!"_

And suddenly, I heard two different voices. I didn't understand what they're saying. I felt the grass beneath my hands. I felt tears on my cheeks, but couldn't hear gunshots. Or screams. I brought my hands up to my face and cry into them.

"I think she's out of it," I heard someone – Norway – say.

That's when I realized that they were holding me. What had happened? I forced my eyes open, trying to calm my racing heart. The pin was on the ground again – Norway must have dropped it to make sure I was okay. The men who'd been shooting at me had that pin on their jackets. It stood for something, something that scared me –

"No Nations Organization," I sobbed. Memories filled in some of the blanks in my mind. "They … they didn't like us. They wanted us gone. They made a weapon that could kill us." The young woman's – Kukka's – face flashed in my head. I choked back a sob, bringing my hand up to my mouth. "They killed her. They killed Finland. And someone else – I can't remember. He tried to save her. I …"

Iceland shushed me, petting my hair. "It's okay. It's over."

I pushed him away, whipping around to face him. "It's not okay!" I screamed. "It will _never_ be okay! I don't even …"

Neither nation spoke. It was silent except for my sobs. Iceland stood up, followed by Norway. Norway helped me to my feet.

"Let's go," he said quietly.

I couldn't do anything but follow.

What else didn't I remember? Who had saved me? Was he still alive? Was he even a nation? What about other nations? Were they alive? Dead?

Was I the only one left?

OoOoOo

**Good? Bad? Love it? Hate it? Sorry it's moving so fast…**

**Please correct my translations (the Icelandic is translated in the text).**

**Storebror = big brother (Norwegian)**


	3. Chapter 3

I guess having the flashback exhausted me because as soon as we made it to the inn, I collapsed. I lied in bed and allowed sleep to consume me. Unfortunately, my dreams were those of past events I'd long forgotten.

_I watch the television from the doorway. The news reporter talks on and on about the NNO. Fear – an emotion I haven't felt in centuries – envelopes my being. They interview the 'mastermind behind it all,' a Norwegian man who seems to believe that nations have all the say in what happens in countries. I narrow my eyes in disgust and pain. My citizen. My citizen is the cause of all this._

_They show pictures. Kukka, who is sitting on the couch, twitches as if to look away, but forces herself to look. A young man – Henrik – rubs her back. I turn my attention to the television screen._

_There are pictures of dead nations. I force back my tears. Raquel – dead. Shawn – dead. Jason – dead. So many more are dead. I refuse to look away. I've seen death before. But I guess it's different because, for the first time ever, I am facing death, as well. Something a nation has never had to worry about before._

_I think about what's in my room, under my pillow. I lick my lips. I don't want to use it, but when it comes down to it, I might have to sacrifice my entire identity for the sake of us all._

I startled awake. It was nighttime, so both Norway and Iceland were asleep. I thought back to my dream, or rather, memory. Something told me that I would find answers in that house … no, it was a cabin … I wasn't sure, but my instincts kept pulling at me. Making a split decision, I broke myself free from Iceland's grip and snuck out.

I went to the graveyard as a starting point. Obviously, something had happened here, but there were still pieces missing. How had I survived? Had anyone else survived, as well? All I knew was that Kukka, Finland, and the other man – Henrik, I realized with a start – had died. What about the man who'd saved me? And I had a feeling that there was one more person … Wait, had it been all of the Nordics together?

I made my way back to where Norway had found the pin. I picked it up and pocketed it. I wandered aimlessly around. I found myself subconsciously following the path I'd ran … how long ago? What year had it been?

I passed the tombstone I'd tripped on. I looked to the side. The bodies of the men were gone. I kept going, letting my subconscious guide me. I reached the end of the cemetery, where a small forest began. Pausing, I looked back.

_The man who saved me is fighting the other guy, trying to get the gun. I hear him shouting for me to go, to run. I see running from the corner of my eye. Coming towards me at a diagonal is a boy about my age, maybe younger. He's bleeding from his left arm. He turns to look behind him. A sudden bang, and he collapses with a wound to the head._

I gasp sharply. A few tears fall. I take a shaky breath as I remember yet another name. "Jón." Iceland.

I turn and start into the woods. I have vague memories of myself and that man … Stefan … running away. Yes, Stefan had grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I'd been hysterical, crying out the others' names.

I couldn't remember anything else, so I decided to head back to the inn. My gut feeling thing wasn't pulling me towards anywhere. So much for finding the house.

And then I was grabbed from behind.

It was starting to lighten up, but I still couldn't see very well. All I saw were those pins on jackets. Shit.

I kicked and fought with all I could, but in the end, I was only a 17-year-old girl, or at least, in the body of one, so the three grown men managed to keep me down. They dragged me to their car. Thinking quickly, I ripped off one of their pins and dropped it onto the ground. I was forced into the car. Oh, and knocked unconscious, too.

When I woke up, I had the worst headache ever. I blinked wearily and brought a hand to my head. I hissed in pain. Looking at my fingers, I realized there was blood on them. Great. I was bleeding. From the head. Not a good thing. So a concussion is definitely a possibility.

I sat up slowly, a bit dizzy. I closed my eyes, trying to focus. Thinking hurt. Honestly, just being awake in general hurt. I forced my eyes open so I could try to figure out where I was. As I saw the dark, bloody walls surrounding me, I remembered what had happened. I'd been kidnapped … or, nation-napped, I guess. And that's when I started to freak out.

If I was really the personification on Norway, then these evil people were going to kill me – but why hadn't they killed me on sight? And even if I wasn't Norway, they might still kill me. And what could I do? That's right. Nothing. I wasn't strong or brave. The only good thing was that I wasn't tied up or anything. Or maybe that was a bad thing – that meant the NNO didn't think I had a fighting chance.

Yeah. Things didn't look too good.

I did my best to hold in my tears. I was scared and alone and didn't know how to fight. What if they wanted information that I couldn't give? What if they killed me in a slow and painful way? Against my will, I started sobbing. I curled up into a ball in the middle of the room, burying my head in my knees.

The door to the room opened. A man with a sneer on his face entered. Not liking how he was eying me, I scrambled to my feet and backed away. The man waved away the guards and closed the door behind him as he stepped closer to me. My breathing picked up.

"Hallo, Norge," the man chuckled. I flinched.

"L-leave me alone," I tried, and failed, to stand up for myself.

The man quirked an eyebrow. "English? Alrighty, then, if that's what you want to speak."

The man turned away from me, but then quickly lashed out a hand. I cried out in surprise and pain as I fell to the ground, holding my cheek. Before I could even think of getting up, the man kicked at my stomach and back. I didn't understand. What had I done? What did these people want? I cried and curled in on myself as the man kicked and spat. I screamed when the knife came into play, carving into my skin.

At long last, the man finished beating me, and spat on my weak and vulnerable form. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he tutted.

I waited for him to leave, or to shoot me, or something. When he didn't, I croaked, "What do you want with me?"

"With _you_?" the man shook his head. "Why, you are the only nation personification left in the world." I shook my head, tears cascading down my cheeks. No, it wasn't possible. There had to be another one out there somewhere, someone who could tell me who I was and what was happening. I couldn't be the only one left.

"Now, because you're the last one," the man continued. "We – the NNO – want to have fun breaking you. Although," he sneered down at me. I tried not to think of how pathetic I must look. "It appears that you're already broken."

The man began to walk towards the door. I didn't have the energy or the will to get up. But I had to know one thing. "Why? Why kill us?"

One hand on the doorknob, my citizen – wait, what? – tilted his head. "Why should you have more power than your own people? Why should we do whatever you say?"

"It's not like that," I cried hoarsely. I wasn't sure how I knew this. Was I just saying things? Or was there a part of me that knew that what he said wasn't true?

The man didn't reply, only exited the room, leaving me on my own. In severe pain and bleeding from what seemed like everywhere, I allowed my eyes to slip shut. I hoped that Iceland and Norway would find me before I was killed.

_We're running through the woods. My heart pounds in my ears. All I know is to run and to hide. I see Stefan out of the corner of my eye. He's saved me and he's trying to protect me. I glance behind us. They're catching up. Run run run run –_

_We're surrounded. I somehow get one of their guns and use it against them. One – dead. Two – dead. Three – dead. I hear Stefan shout my name. I turn in time to see him get shot twice in the chest. He falls to the ground. My eyes follow him. Rage consumes me. All I know is kill. Kill the man who killed my family. Kill them all. Bang – dead. Bang, bang – dead, dead._

_And then I'm alone._

_My companion – my friend – my brother in all but blood lies motionless on the ground. The night is quiet. Everyone is either dead or has given up. I can't look at Stefan any longer. I stumble away until I make it to a road. No one can be seen, but people will be there soon._

_I take the flask, the last option, from my pocket. With shaking fingers, I open the potion that I created. It will make me forget. It will erase who I am. I can start over. The potion will mask my aura, so I cannot be tracked. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I raise the bottle to my lips._

OoOoOo

**Sorry for the short chapter. The next one is longer, I promise!**

**Translations:**

**Hallo, Norge – Hello, Norway**


	4. Chapter 4

Six days. Six days, and I was still there. The members of the NNO took turns beating me. Sometimes, they cut me. Other times, they burned me. My left wrist was broken. My clothes were ripped. Blood matted my hair. I had trouble breathing, so I guessed I had bruised or broken ribs, as well.

I'd stopped even trying to fight back – like I had tried all that hard in the first place. But I was weak and I didn't stand a chance, anyway. Every time someone entered the room, I wondered if that was the day that I was going to be killed, only to be disappointed.

I had given up on living, especially after that memory I'd had my first day. I didn't care anymore. If I was the only one left, then what was the point of fighting? I wanted to go to wherever personified nations went when they died. Maybe then I could get some answers. All I knew was that I had a family waiting for me there. And even then, I didn't know much about them – just their names and their deaths.

The only time I fought back was whenever someone tried to rape me. Only two guys tried, and after that, no one else did. The first time, I'd kicked the guy in the nuts and clawed at him and bitten his lip really hard. The second time, I'd managed to steal the fire poker the guy had used on me beforehand and burned and stabbed him a few times. Needless to say, no one else tried to rape me.

On the sixth day, there was a commotion outside the room. I stayed curled up defensively in the corner, an involuntary action now. I hid my face in my arms. I heard the door open. I tensed, prepared for more pain. I heard someone swear, but I wouldn't lift my head.

"Liv?" I was startled at the use of my human name. The people here only called me Norway. I jumped and tried to back away a hand was laid on my shoulder. "Liv, it's Norway and Iceland." Hesitating, I looked up.

Iceland kept watch at the door while shooting me worried looks. Norway was the one who knelt beside me. His eyes searched mine. I couldn't move. I knew they were safe, but did I really _want_ to be safe?

"Liv?" Norway must have seen something in my eyes. I opened my mouth a couple of times, but in the end, found myself a sobbing mess, clutching onto Norway. He helped me stand, mindful of my injuries. "We're getting you out of here."

Iceland lifted me into his arms, something that embarrassed me. But when I heard more and more of the members of the NNO yelling and coming around the corner, I just hid my face in Iceland's neck and let him carry me away. I guess I passed out, because the next thing I knew was lying on a bed in an inn. My wrist had a brace on it, my ribs were wrapped up, and most of the cuts and burns had been treated.

I heard Iceland and Norway talking in low voices over at the other bed. I strained my ears, only to find they were speaking in a language I didn't understand. I remained still, pretending to be asleep. I flinched when a hand caressed my brow. I refused to open my eyes.

"Liv?" I heard Iceland's voice. His voice was full of hurt and pain. Unable to stand it, I opened my eyes. Iceland tried to smile. Norway watched me from the other bed. I turned my gaze to the ceiling.

"You're okay now," Iceland said softly. I didn't move, didn't speak. What could I say?

"Say something," Iceland urged, voice thick. Was he holding back tears? I didn't care. I rolled onto my side, hissing in pain. This new position hurt my ribs, but I couldn't look at Iceland or Norway.

I felt the bed sink in as Iceland sat beside me. He petted my hair. I didn't react. Why should I? I was nothing but a burden. I didn't want to be alive. I wanted to be with my family. I was selfish. Norway and Iceland shouldn't have to deal with me. Instead of me trying to help them home, they were keeping me out of trouble. It wasn't fair to them.

It especially wasn't fair because I was fairly certain it was because of me that they had appeared in my home. That dream I'd had – I'd made a potion. And I was fairly sure that I was capable of doing magic.

What if I'd accidentally used my magic on those two pins that had brought Norway and Iceland here? It would make sense. It had probably been my subconscious desire to figure out who I was combined with my magic. Norway and Iceland had been pulled from their world because of me. The more I thought it, the clearer it became. It was all my fault. Perhaps if I died, the magic would stop, and they'd be sent back?

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Norway calling my name softly. I blinked, focusing on my surroundings. Norway sat in front of me, the slightest of frowns on his face. I turned my gaze to the wall.

"Liv, what happened?" Norway asked, gently but sternly. I didn't know what to tell him, so I kept quiet instead. "Don't shut us out."

Iceland placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Let us help."

I didn't reply. I kept staring at the wall. It was silent. I assumed that Norway and Iceland were having a conversation with only looks, as they so often do. I didn't like being talked about – even silently – especially when I was in the room. So I opened my big, fat mouth.

"I'm the only one left," I murmured hoarsely. Hearing myself say it made it all the more real. Tears pushed to escape, but I held them in. I would not be a burden anymore. I was not weak. I refused to be some stupid damsel in distress – something that I felt like I had become. I didn't need to be coddled. I could handle this on my own.

"What?" Iceland asked, surprised, I guessed, that I'd spoken.

"The other nations," I said dully. I clenched my right hand, pulling it towards my heart in the hopes it would keep my emotions inside. "They were killed. Years ago." Thirty years ago, I suddenly realized with a pang. It had happened in the early '80s.

"How did you survive?" Norway asked, watching me closely.

I took a shuddering breath. "I made a potion," I said breathlessly, my voice cracking. "It made me forget. It masked my aura – something that every nation here has. It's how they found us."

As I said these things, I realized they were true. My memory was returning. But I could only remember those years that my people created the weapon – the only weapon that could kill a nation – and then killing us off, one by one by one. And we Nordics stuck together, formed a sort of union, in an attempt to save ourselves, only for them to be slaughtered and for me to be a coward.

I closed my eyes. A few tears slipped onto the pillow. "I should have died with them," I whispered. "I should have killed myself." Being with my family would be better than being alone in a world where your own citizens want to kill you.

Iceland inhaled sharply. I felt Norway shifting on the bed, perhaps to be in a better position to catch me if I tried to run. Like I could, anyway.

"Liv," Norway snapped. I didn't dare open my eyes.

Iceland cut him off. "You did your best," he told me. I snorted. I ran. Like a coward. I should have helped the others, not ran. "Stop being so down on yourself."

"You don't understand!" I half-shouted, whipping my eyes open. I twisted my body so I could glare into Iceland's face. "Everybody is dead! Gone! Stefan died saving me! I have no one left! I'm alone!" I felt my energy leave me. I sobbed, my eyes drifting off to the side. "I'm alone," I repeated brokenly.

"You have us," Norway said, taking my good hand in his. I pulled my hand away, shaking my head.

"But at what cost?" I sobbed. "I think I pulled you guys here by accident. And instead of helping you guys get home, you guys are helping me find out who I am. I'm just a burden."

Norway's eyes flashed, but it was Iceland who spoke. "You are not a burden," he hissed harshly. He forced me to look at him. "We _want_ to help you. If we'd wanted to go home, we could have told you to help us at any time."

"But –"

"No buts," Iceland murmured, leaning down and kissing my gently. After he'd pulled away, I looked over at Norway to see his reaction. Norway looked more stoic than usual, but otherwise didn't say anything. I bit my lip.

"I'm tired," I said at last, closing my eyes and getting comfortable.

I still wasn't convinced that Norway and Iceland actually wanted me around. Not to mention I wanted to see my family. At least then they can tell me what other events we went through together. Maybe get some happy memories, instead of all the bad ones.

I did manage to fall asleep. I woke up early in the morning, right before dawn. Feeling antsy – probably from being locked up in a room for so long – I crept out of bed and exited the room. I wasn't sure where I was headed. I just needed to get away.

I passed the cemetery and the small patch of woods. I followed a muddy path that my mind laid out for me. I must have been here a thousand times. I passed few people and only a few houses. Eventually, I came to a cabin. I stopped in front of it, examined it, and that's when I realized – this was where it had all happened. This was the place where we'd been caught.

I took a step closer, hesitant about entering. I saw the shattered window panes. Glass littered the ground, even thirty years later. The front door was scratched. I entered the house, mindful of the glass. The room I found myself in had a broken television set and a sofa. This was from one of my flashbacks – the one where we were all watching the news. I moved into the hallway, stepping carefully around glass.

I went up the staircase instead of looking at any of the other rooms. I passed a few doors before stopping in front of one. I opened the door slowly. Inside the room were a bed and a few scattered articles of clothing. Besides the dust, it seemed to be untouched. This was my room, I realized as I stepped closer to the bed.

I knelt beside the bed. Following my gut, I reached underneath the bed. My hand met a book. I pulled it out. It was in Norwegian. I blew dust off of it. Somehow, I could read the title of the book. I closed my eyes and took a breath. It was a book of magic and potions.

I opened my eyes. One of the pages was marked with a red ribbon. I flipped to the page. I couldn't read the directions, but I could read the name of the potion perfectly. I choked back a sob. It was a mind-wiping potion.

I flipped rapidly through the pages of the book, hoping to find something of my past. Nothing stood out to me. Nothing was hidden within the pages. I closed the book and put it back under the bed. As I did so, I noticed a box hidden underneath the bed as well. I pulled it out, sneezing at the pile of dust I brought out with it.

I opened the box. I inhaled sharply at what I saw first. It was a picture. A happy picture. A family picture. All five of us smiled at the camera. I saw through the window in the background a large layer of snow. It must have been taken at this cabin. I flipped the picture over. On the back, written in my handwriting, was the year 1978. The picture had been taken before the genocide of personified nations.

I placed the picture aside. The next thing in the box was a yellowed portrait of myself, Henrik, and Stefan. We all stood proud and strong. Looking closer, I realized that Henrik appeared a bit upset. Scanning my own features, I noticed that I looked bitter. Stefan appeared cocky and happy with himself. At the bottom of the portrait, someone had written the year 1401. The Kalmar Union, a part of my mind whispered. Before Sweden – Henrik – began to rebel.

Lifting the portrait carefully, I put it beside the photograph. Next in the box was what I believed to be the Norwegian flag folded up. I lifted it gently. I briefly felt pride in my heart. I unfolded the flag and blinked in surprise. The flag had hidden a knife and its sheath. I brought the knife out of the sheath and frowned.

It was a replica of a knife commonly used in the Viking Age. I had remade weapons over the years, partially for sentimental purposes, partially for protection. I eyed the edges, which were very sharp. I must be good at making weapons. Or at least, I had been. I turned the knife towards my heart. Maybe my family could give me some answers.

I heard glass sliding on the floor and whipped around, clutching the knife in my good hand. Norway stood in the doorway. He observed the room quickly before zeroing in on me. From the way his eyes narrowed, I had a feeling he knew what I had been about to do. He took a step towards me. I scrambled to my feet, holding the knife limply at my side.

"Liv, calm down," Norway said gently. I moved around the box, backing up a bit. Norway came towards me, arms raised in the universal sign of surrender. "Let's talk about this."

"Stop," I pleaded. I just wanted to die. There wasn't any point to me being alive. Norway took another step. I swung up the knife in front of me. My body shifted of its own accord to assume a more defensive position. Norway stayed where he was.

"What's going through your head?" Norway asked calmly, eyes watching the knife.

My breathing and heartbeat picked up, but my hand remained steady. "You don't understand. You _can't_ understand."

Norway frowned briefly, but his face was blank again so quickly that I figured I'd imagined it. "Talk to me," he said.

I shook my head and backed up another step. I needed to keep a space between us. I couldn't have him get too close. He was keeping me away from my family. I didn't understand why he wanted to keep me alive. I was a burden. I was getting in the way. It was my fault he and Iceland were here, and not with their family. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought – I had torn apart their own family, assuming they were as close as my family was.

"Where's Iceland?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Norway.

Norway inched forward. I tightened my grip on the knife. "He's back at the inn," he told me. "I came to look for you. He decided to stay behind in case you returned." I bit my lip.

"How did you find me?" I asked quietly.

"I followed your footprints," Norway replied. He looked me in the eye. "What are you thinking?"

I didn't answer. I eyed the knife I held. If I could stab myself quick enough, maybe I would bleed out before Norway could stop it. Before I could do so, Norway took my distraction to grab my wrist and twist it. I let go of the knife, yelping in pain.

I instinctively fought back. I punched and maneuvered myself in an experienced way, probably a subconscious part of my past. Norway blocked me. Eventually, he caught me and held me on the floor. I went limp. I couldn't beat him. What a pathetic excuse for a nation I was.

"Don't do that again," Norway told me. When I didn't answer, he shook me lightly until I looked him in the eyes. "Don't do that again," he repeated. I felt myself break. I cried. Norway helped me up. He held me and rubbed my back.

"I can't do this," I mumbled into his chest. "I can't."

"You're a fighter," he replied. "You'll be fine. You'll be fine." And yet he didn't let me go.

"I'm a stupid, stupid person," I said, voice breaking. "You're a lot better at being Norway than I am." I couldn't even think straight anymore. All I knew was that I hated myself, that I hated living, and that I just needed someone to comfort me.

"You're a stupid person," Norway agreed with me. "But you're good at being Norway," he added. "Those fighting moves before were those of a warrior." I shrugged. Norway brushed my hair behind my ear. "And do you realize you're speaking Norwegian right now?"

I blinked and pulled away, looking at Norway. I furrowed my brow, confused. "I am?"

Norway nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. "Yes. You're speaking New Norwegian."

I hadn't even realized it. I huffed in confusion. I shook my head and leaned into Norway again. "That doesn't make me a good Norway."

Norway sighed. He continued rubbing my back. "You're too hard on yourself," he said. He paused before saying, "Don't try to kill yourself again." I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. "Think of what your family would want. I never knew them, but I know that my family would be upset and angry if I tried to take my own life."

I didn't respond, knowing that he was right. It still didn't make me feel better about living. But maybe I could avenge their deaths, make myself useful, if I was alive. Make those bastards pay for what they did to my friends and family. I closed my eyes. That was a good idea. I'll stay alive, but only to kill every last member of the NNO. For my family.

All I said to Norway was that I wouldn't kill myself again. But it was an honorable death to die in battle – and this battle would be against the members of the NNO.

OoOoOo

**Sorry for the time jumps. My excuses are: I'm lazy, and I'm not good at writing those little details. So, lots of drama this chapter, yes? Wait until next chapter. *evil laughter***


	5. Chapter 5

Days passed. Norway and I never told Iceland what had happened in the cabin. The three of us continued our "tour" of the land, even though I remembered almost every place anyway. Whenever I had a few hours alone – for instance, if they were asleep and I was awake, or they wanted to go somewhere and I didn't – I would track down the members of the NNO who were in the area. It was a part of being a personification. I knew the names of every one of my citizens, including the ones who were a part of the NNO. I tracked down those people and killed them. I hid the bodies well so that the authorities wouldn't find out until after the three of us had left town.

I wasn't sure if Norway and Iceland knew what I was doing or not. I thought I was being careful, and I always cleaned up the blood, but you can never tell with those two. Even if they did know what I was doing, they couldn't know my weapon of choice: the knife. Norway never noticed when I hide it up my shirt, leaving the cabin that day. And I always kept it hidden.

I felt a sort of rush whenever I went after the NNO. The blood pounding in my ears, the adrenaline, the overall excitement – I reveled in it. And the actual act of killing was enjoyable, as well. It wasn't "fun," per se, more like a satisfaction that there was one less member of the NNO out there. One more nation in the world I'd avenged. But I wouldn't be able to avenge my family until every last member was dead.

I only ever went after one member at a time. They did have guns that had something that could kill me, after all. I always attacked from behind, knocked away the gun, and then stabbed the person, over and over again, under he or she begged me for mercy that I wouldn't give – because had they given the other nations mercy when killing them? Had they?

I knew I couldn't go after every last member of the NNO in the world – I would never be able to find all of the others. But it was my citizens who had started this whole mess. If I killed them, then maybe the other members in the rest of the world would be scared off. And if not, I would just have to do extensive research to track every last one of them down.

But I'd grown messy in killing them and irritable when around Norway and Iceland. It was rare when I would allow Iceland to cuddle me anymore, and Norway and I didn't talk as much. I had a short temper and yelled whenever neither of them listened to what I said. When asked, I told them it was my time of month, but that excuse wouldn't work soon, not to mention they hadn't bought it in the first place. I actually caught Iceland trying to follow me once, and changed my course so I went to a museum instead.

Like I said, I'd grown messy in killing the NNO members, especially when I honed in on where the leader behind the entire operation was. If I could get to him, then the others would back off. I was sure of it. My entire purpose became to kill him. I could care less about the others, as long as I killed them if they were in my way.

And then I managed to corner him. Alone. With his weapon out of reach and my weapon glinting in the sun. He knew who I was. He cussed at me and promised to kill me. I only laughed in his face and stabbed him. Then I stabbed him again. And again. Over and over, until he was a crying, bleeding mess on the ground. I spat on him as he shook and begged.

"Stupid human," I chuckled darkly, stabbing him again for the hell of it.

He deserved to suffer for the torture he put me and my fellow nations through. Perhaps nations should have complete control over their people, as the NNO appeared to believe anyway. Maybe then there wouldn't be complete genocide of us. Of course, it was too late now, but I could still do this to my own people. That way, they could never – and would never – rise up against me.

I felt someone's presence behind me but paid them no mind. I was in the middle of something and was not about to stop for anyone. I stabbed the man in front of me. I laughed at his pain. "Crawl like the worm you are!"

I was finally in control. I finally felt like a true nation. I felt powerful and invincible. This was what it truly felt like to be a personification of a nation. I never wanted to let this feeling – this power – go. Never again would I ever be a coward. Never again would I allow someone to rise up against me.

I went to stab the man again, but I suddenly found myself fighting for control of the knife. I let out a string of curses, but in the end, the other person I'd been fighting took my weapon. I turned to face my opponent – the other Norway. I briefly felt guilty, but then remembered why I had to torture the man on the ground, why I had to stay in control. I lunged for the knife. The other Norway tossed it away, choosing instead to wrestle me to the ground.

"Let me go!" I screamed angrily. "This worthless piece of shit deserves all that's coming to him!"

Norway held me down. Unfortunately, he was stronger than me. I glared at him as he stared down at me, worry and caution the prominent emotions in his eyes. "Liv, calm down."

I growled and grit my teeth. "Don't call me by that name! I am the Kingdom of Norway! I won't be lowered to human standards!" It was humans who had killed us. It wouldn't happen again on my watch.

"Listen to yourself!" the other Norway shouted right back at me. "This isn't you! This is the country trying to take over. Don't let it consume you!"

I refused to listen. He didn't know what he was talking about. This was a different world than his. Things worked differently here. I was sure of it. "What if I don't care?"

Norway struggled to keep me still. He looked into my eyes. I glared back at him. "You do care. I know you do." He shifted so I could barely move. "This anger that you feel? It's your human feelings multiplied by a million by your country rationale." I shook my head. Norway ignored me. "It happened to me during my Viking age, and it probably happened to you, too."

"You don't know me," I hissed.

"If you don't calm down, you're going to do things that you regret … If you haven't, already."

His logic was slowly calming me down. I realized what I had done was wrong, but at the same time, I wanted to continue. I wanted every last one of those men and women dead. I wanted control. I wanted power. I didn't want to let that go. I tried to let go of my human feelings. They didn't matter. At least, that's what I told myself.

"Liv," I heard from a few feet away. I stiffened up even more when Iceland walked into my line of vision. His heartbroken face brought tears to my eyes. No! I didn't want to be weak anymore! I didn't want to be useless and a burden anymore! I needed this power, this control. I needed it to aid me in avenging the death of my family.

Norway moved off me slightly, but Iceland blocked my only way of escape. Before I knew what happened, Iceland was kissing me passionately. The rage and the rush and the need for power all escaped me. A part of me wanted my human emotions to leave again – they were such trivial things – but at the same time, I wanted them to stay – they reminded me how human I was, nation or not.

Iceland pulled away and looked at me. "I love you," he said softly. And that's what broke the dam. I started crying. I couldn't look over at the dead body of the man. I couldn't look Norway or Iceland in the eye. I couldn't live with myself. I didn't want to live, anyway.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. Norway pulled me into his chest. He rubbed my back as Iceland petted my hair. "I didn't mean it." Norway and Iceland shushed me and let me cry. "Please don't hate me," I pleaded brokenly.

"We could never hate you," Iceland assured me. I kissed him briefly, not leaving the comfort of Norway's hug.

"I think we should return to the United States," Norway suggested. There were no arguments from either me or Iceland. I was tired. Tired of travelling my land. Tired of the memories. Tired of the death. Tired of the running. Tired of living and tired of breathing.

The only international airport was in Oslo, the other side of the country. So on our way back, I asked to make a stop at the town where the entire thing started. I requested that I went alone. It was something that had to be done. Norway and Iceland reluctantly allowed it. It sucked that they didn't trust me on my own anymore. Not that I blame them.

I passed the cemetery and the woods. I followed the muddy path to the cabin. I went up to what used to be my room. I grabbed the book of spells and potions – which I could now read – and placed my knife back into the box. I walked slowly down the hallway, looking at each bedroom door. I imagined Kukka saying a snarky remark; Henrik comparing my life to some book or other; Jón watching me from his spot on the staircase; Stefan starting a friendly banter with me.

I closed my eyes and pretended they really were all there with me. "I'm sorry," I choked back a sob. "I'm sorry I did this. I'm so, so sorry." I felt a cool chill up my spine, which shook me awake, so to speak. I looked down at the book in my hands before leaving the cabin, this time for good.

The next day, we were back in the U.S. We went to my apartment and crashed – it was a long flight and we were tired. Unfortunately, we all had crappy jobs, so we had to do those one the second day we were back. It seemed all was back to normal for all three of us. At least, we all tried to pretend nothing happened over in my land.

On the fourth day back, Norway and Iceland both had to work while I had a day off for once. I took the chance to skim through my spell book, which I'd hidden from both of them. I read spell after spell, potion after potion, until my eyes couldn't read anymore. I stood up to stretch. A late-summer breeze blew in through the open window, shuffling the pages of the book. I sighed. I'd have to go searching for the page I'd left off at.

But when I looked at the name for the spell, I realized that it was just what I'd been looking for. It was a spell that sent people to another dimension, another reality. It must have been the spell I'd done subconsciously to bring Norway and Iceland here. I brought the pins over from the bulletin board and held them gently in my hands. I recited the spell. It would take a couple of hours to work – a delayed reaction, so to speak.

It was good enough. I put the spell book on the table and the pins of the flags back on the bulletin board. I also stuck a note on the board. Short and sweet: You should be back soon. If not, the book is on the table.

I went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills, which I'd already placed a spell on so that they would kill me for good. I went to my room, locked the door, and sat down on my bed. I looked at my still-broken wrist, felt the pain in my ribs, imagined my family's faces behind my closed eyelids. This was what I had to do. I was going to be killed by the remaining members of the NNO eventually, anyway. And even if they didn't find me, I was still the last personified nation left in this world. What a lonely eternal life to live.

Hoping Norway and Iceland would forgive me, I downed as many sleeping pills as I could swallow. I lied down on my bed. I heard the door to the apartment open and two pairs of footsteps enter.

And then all I knew was black.

OoOoOo

**And that's the end! I have two ideas for a sequel – which I may or may not get around to. I also have an idea for a companion piece that would explain what happened to Liv and her family. Which I also may or may not write, depending on you guys.**

**What are your opinions? Any advice on writing for the future?**

**Also, to clarify a few things:**

**Liv is not the female version of Norway/Lukas/whatever you call him. She is from a completely world connected to Hetalia only through the anime and manga.**

**Liv also does not have romantic feelings for Norway/Lukas/whatever. She has a brotherly connection to him. They are both personifications of the same land, just from two different dimensions. So it would kind of be like dating yourself.**

**A lot of what I wrote in this story is based off of my own personal headcanons. For instance, I believe that the majority of what makes a person a personification of a nation is his or her connection to the culture/people/language/etc. of the land, with political stuff a minor thing. When Liv grew angry and started killing her own people – that is my headcanon that there is the "country" side and the "human" side of a personification. Usually, they're more or less balanced out. Because Liv wiped her memories, she was more human. So when she started getting her memories back, it was difficult to control her "country's" urges, and she lost control to the "country" side of her – which is "this is what will make us better, stronger, more in control" instead of "people matter, emotions matter."**

**I know this story is a bit rushed. Sorry! Review or PM me if you have any more questions.**


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